


The Difference Between Broken and Weird

by cloudybay



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Mental Hospital, Supernatural Elements, because i'm a sucker for the supernatural, so sorry if i got something disgustingly wrong, warning: my knowledge of mental hospitals extends only to the movie It's Kind Of a Funny Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudybay/pseuds/cloudybay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil can see and speak to ghosts. Not that he meant to tell any living person about that, but when an unfortunate event “uncovers” his secret, he is taken into a mental hospital under the label of schizophrenic. There he meets Dan, a 16 year old who suffers from anorexia and depression, but happens to be the only one who believes Phil’s truth. Now Phil has to do everything in his power to convince the doctors he’s recovered from something he never even had, while he learns to properly interact with the living and maybe develope something more than friendship with Dan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White

It was a cold afternoon of October 1992. The fallen leaves of the trees covered the ground forming a nice golden and orange carpet all across Rawtenstall’s streets. The crunching sound they made when stepping on them was one of Phil’s favourite entertainments during autumn, and he made sure to make the most of it as he crossed the park towards the church every Sunday, his parents a few steps behind watching as his ginger hair got lost between the season colours.

Sundays were Phil’s favourite days because those were the only days when he could meet up with his best friend, Jim. They had met for the first time some months before, when Phil was wandering around the church trying to figure out how to get to those big bells at the top; he had sneaked from his parents’ watch knowing they wouldn’t allow him to do this otherwise. He knew he had to find stairs, the bells were up so he had to go up, and then it was when he saw him for the first time; Phil thought he was going to take him to his parents and tell on him, but the boy didn’t, he stood there looking at the red haired one with curiosity painted on his face.

“What are you doing?” the stranger asked, he wasn’t using an accusatory tone, he sounded like he genuinely wondered, so Phil complied.

“I’m trying to reach the big bells” the five year old answered with a smirk, a finger of his right hand pointing up. The nameless boy cocked an eyebrow and smiled amused. Phil suddenly felt too small before the boy who looked about 13 years old.

“You’re never gonna reach the bells if you head that way, y’know” said the mysterious boy.

“And how do you know that?” responded the ginger crossing his arms like dad did when he didn’t believe Phil hadn’t drawn on the walls; he didn’t want to show he was scared. The boy laughed.

“I spend a lot of time here, that’s why” he said, and seeing the red head’s face didn’t change he added “I can take you there, but you have to promise to be careful ‘cos if you fall from there you die”

Phil uncrossed his arms and smiled widely nodding “Yes! I promise!”

The boy guided the five year old through hallways, stairs and passages until they finally reached the rooftop right next to the bells. Phil broadened his smile and walked around extending his arms to try touching the closest ones.

“Careful” called the still nameless boy. Phil nodded and slowly sat with his legs hanging in the air facing the park and taking in the view of Manchester in the morning.

“So what’s your name bell kid?” asked the stranger sitting next to the five year old.

“Phil, what’s yours?”

“Jim”.

Since that day Phil and Jim were the best of friends and hung around the church every Sunday. Even when some time later, Phil tried telling his parents about Jim and they thought their son had just made up an imaginary friend because there was no Jim at church, their friendship stayed strong.

When Phil turned eight, Jim thought he was old enough to know the truth and explained to Phil he wasn’t alive and hadn’t been for years; the 13 year old had thought his younger friend wouldn’t believe him, that he would have to prove himself, but Phil only smiled and said “Yeah, I know” and after a silence and fearing having sounded rude he added “but thanks for trusting me enough to tell me”.

Their friendship only kept growing, Phil had some other friends, but none of them were as close as Jim. It was Jim who had helped him when he decided to dye his hair black (and believe me, it isn’t an easy task when you try doing that in a church’s bathroom with nobody finding out).

It was Jim the first one Phil told he may like boys rather than girls, and it was Jim the first one to tell him it was alright and that didn’t change who Phil was at all.

Also Phil was the only one Jim could talk to seeing no one else could see or hear him; and hence it was Phil the only one who knew Jim didn’t like to be alone, the only one who knew ghosts could cry, and Jim cried a lot when Phil didn’t visit the church for too long.

They didn’t talk about Jim’s death; it was like an unspoken rule between them. Phil had tried finding out by himself once, but when Jim accidentally saw some of Phil’s notes on how to help ghosts get to the other side and ran off refusing to talk to Phil for three days straight, the younger boy decided to forget about it and apologize to Jim.

The day Phil turned 13 it was a weird day for both boys, from that day on, Phil wouldn’t be the younger one anymore. Soon enough though, the weird feeling wore off and everything went back to normal. It was a few weeks after Phil’s 15th birthday that everything started going downhill; nobody was expecting it really, a lightning struck the church and it burnt down.

It was midnight but Phil was restless because of the rain so he was up reading next to the window. His house was one block away from the park so he saw the fire and smoke rising to the sky from where he was sitting. He wasn’t the only one who ran out to see what was happening; when he got to the park, the police was already there containing the curious neighbours, and firemen sirens could be heard coming closer.

Phil didn’t think twice before trying to run into the church. Jim was in there, and according to the small research he had done all those years ago, if you burnt down what held the spirit to the world of the living, the ghost would disappear, and Phil knew Jim was attached to the church; otherwise he would’ve been able to get out of it. He hadn’t said goodbye to Jim, he wasn’t ready for him to move on and worst of all, Jim was alone. Jim didn’t deserve to go through this alone. So he ran; he pushed through the people gathering in front of the huge bonfire that the event had turned into, and tried sneaking into the building, but was stopped by a pair of strong arms.

“What are you doing kid? This place is dangerous!” said the man who had caught him. He was a policeman, Phil noticed, but he didn’t care, Jim was alone and was about to disappear forever.

“It doesn’t matter I have to get in! There’s something very important for me in there!” he answered raising his voice and looking straight into the lit up building.

“I’m sorry son, but it is too dangerous to let you in now! We’ll wait for the firemen to put out the fire and then you’ll tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll see if the fire didn’t destroy it”

“No! He’ll be gone by then!” screamed Phil now desperate.

“He? What do you mean _he_?” interrogated the officer now raising his voice too.

Phil knew nobody would believe him, he would sound crazy and that he shouldn’t have said he, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.

“My friend, Jim!” he said, and then he saw him, Jim was at the rooftop by the bells looking terrified “Jim! No! Let me in! He needs me! He doesn’t like being alone!” Phil began yelling and pleading, trying to escape the police man’s grip to no avail. He could see how the flames had already caught his friend and were slowly swallowing him in the hot light matching Phil’s natural hair colour. The storm hadn’t stopped, but the 15 year old knew the water covering his face wasn’t only rain and he didn’t care. He didn’t care that the boy next door he liked and might like him back would see him like that. He didn’t care that he was having trouble in maths class. He didn’t care that his mom had read his diary and found out he was gay that way. He didn’t care that everyone would think he was crazy screaming for somebody who wasn’t there; all he cared about was that he was losing Jim. And Jim was alone. And that made Phil feel alone. And the world was a fucked up shit because he was losing his best friend in the world and nobody would listen because he was the only one who could see ghosts in this goddamned town.

That night, Phil had to be sedated and taken away in an ambulance to wake up, the following morning, in a hospital bed, surrounded by white -white tiles, white walls, white door, white sheets, white ceiling and white lights-. Phil wondered if heaven was white, if Jim was in heaven, if heaven even existed; he felt alone, and he wished Jim was with him. And then he realized that if Jim could be with him, they wouldn’t be in that hospital, they would be in the church. But the church was gone just like Jim, and that was when the ebony haired boy broke down. The tears began falling and there was no stop, neither could he find a single reason to stop; it wasn’t like crying would solve anything, but stopping wouldn’t either. So he cried, he cried until he felt completely dry, and he laid on the stiff white sheets of the white hospital bed in the white hospital room staring at the white spotless ceiling trying not to think about anything because thinking hurt and at the moment he preferred feeling nothing rather than feeling pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was more of a prologue than a chapter, the actual first chapter will be up in about a week.  
> Also tell me what you thought about it, feedback is very appreciated (considering english isn't my first language and i'm crap at writing proper endings). If you need any help in thinking of what to comment here's an example:  
> "This is so bad i will have to carve my eyes out, thank you very much"


	2. Painting Bells

For the rest of the year Phil had to explain to countless faceless people who was Jim -or actually had been-. He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore if people thought him crazy.

At least that was what he told himself the first seven months. But as his parents began discussing putting him under medication, Phil decided he wanted to prove himself sane. It shouldn’t be too hard, he knew they needed proof and that he could find it just as he had done all those years ago when he got curious about who Jim had been before his death.

He gathered some newspapers from 1991, the year his friend had died, and cut the articles that verified Jim’s existence, then ran to his parents and showed them. But the doctor said he had probably seen those articles when he was four, overheard conversations in the street or the house about the incident.

 _“The death of the Stevenson boy was pretty much the only thing people talked about for a while”_  Doctor Franklin had reasoned.

Then he explained that Phil’s mind had taken that story to build this “character” – _Jim,_  had corrected Phil angrily- having all that back up to protect himself from the truth.

“Phil has  _schizophrenia_ ” diagnosed the doctor. He then moved on to give Phil’s parents a list of pills that would help their son with his “condition”.

A year later the ebony haired boy was taken to the Providence Mental Hospital, in the middle of Manchester, since his “condition” wasn’t getting any better. Of course, because that building had served for medical services for wounded soldiers during the Second World War, it was full of ghosts; ghosts that Phil tried to ignore unsuccessfully.

Two months after his arrival, having turned 17, he was moved to a much more modern mental hospital in the outskirts of the city, the Waterford Institution for the Mentally Disabled, with no history of any paranormal activity or any kind of thing that would interfere with his “recovery”.

 _Two more months_. That was what they said when he asked how long he would have to stay until they let him go.

Of course he would have to show signs of recovery during that period of time, and he would have to be declared fully functional by his personal psychologist and the hospital’s director. But he could do it, all he had to do was agree with the doctors when they said the ghosts were just a product of his perturbed mind and take the pills that didn’t cause any kind of effect on him.

It had to be gradual though, otherwise they would notice he was pretending. So the first day he said he had seen a ghost at the door and had been feeling someone or something looking at him until half an hour after he had taken his pills, and the doctor explained that it was probably because the medication was beginning to work –not like Phil didn’t know that, because he had read the prospect that came with the bottle and he had made sure to mention the time the pills were supposed to kick in–.

The second day, the third, the fourth and the whole rest of the week went on like that, he  _saw_  or  _felt_  something but a while after taking the pills everything disappeared, and the doctors believed him.

After that week, the daily checks became a five days a week checks, which left Phil with enough time to actually settle in the establishment, to get familiarized with the inhabitants and surroundings. But it was too much free time in his hands, and in an hour he had visited every inch of the institution and wasn’t feeling like talking to people. That was, of course, easier said than done, considering that in that same hour he had been stopped no less than four times to be invited to different activities, rejecting every single one each time. Phil wandered the halls and gardens aimlessly, trying to get lost. But that was not an easy task, and even though the mental hospital was a pretty big building, it seemed impossible for the black haired boy to get lost.

Half an hour was all he could take before he got bored and stopped in the middle of a hallway to look around trying to find something new to do. And while he stood there pondering what to do next, someone tapped on his shoulder; a 5’5’’ man looked at Phil with a smile plastered in his face, he looked familiar.

“So you decided to take up my offer of joining us in the art therapy group, Phil?” asked the man.  _Oh_ , Phil now remembered this man, he had stumbled upon him in the gardens earlier that day, he was one of the many who had invited him to join an activity, but he couldn’t recall the man’s name,  _Joe? Jack? Did it even start with a J?_ Phil decided to smile back and spare himself from social awkwardness by answering the question with just a nod; the good thing about this place was that nobody forced you to talk, so he was saved from having to ask the man for his name once again, he just had to avoid him and answer everything without speaking much.

“Great!” said maybe-Joe, “follow me, it is this way”.

It was that phrase, what made Phil realize he had just agreed to join that damned art class or group or whatever it was called.  _Oh well_ , he thought, _it could’ve been worse, I like drawing and painting after all, as long as they don’t force me to share everything with everyone it should be nice._  He followed maybe-Joe to the end of the hallway and through an open door into a room lit only by the bright sunlight coming from the big windows in the room. The place had about six big tables all with piles of art supplies in the middle and patients sitting around them working on their own thing. Some were talking, others were silent, but everyone seemed to know each other. Phil felt uneasy, he hadn’t met anyone yet, and he had noticed how his social skills had turned even worse since he lost Jim.

“Everyone!” maybe-Joe said in a loud voice startling everyone indeed, and making Phil jump a little bit. “This” he motioned the ebony haired boy “is Phil, and he’ll be joining us today, so would somebody be kind enough to offer him somewhere to sit?”

Every face in the room turned to them and Phil went pale, he didn’t like attention on himself, he’d had enough of that in the past two years, and now everyone in the room was looking, staring even. He was starting to regret his decision of coming in there, perhaps he should’ve just told maybe-Joe that he had got lost and was looking for the bathroom, perhaps it wasn’t too late to escape this, maybe if-

“You can sit here if you want” a shy voice interrupted his train of thought. Phil looked to his left to be met with a pair of chocolate coloured eyes matching perfectly with the dark brown haircut that mirrored Phil’s. The 17 year old blushed at the boy who didn’t look older than 15, and mumbled an “Okay, thanks” sitting in the offered spot to the right of the boy. He grabbed a blank sheet of paper from the middle of the table, a random pencil and begun to draw, trying to ignore the ones who were still staring. He wasn’t a really good artist really, but he enjoyed doing this, so he drew some bells and smiled remembering his first encounter with Jim. Then he proceeded to doodling random stuff ending up in putting maybe more effort into a pepperoni pizza drawing than necessary; he realized he missed that food though, because since he had been put in those god forsaken mental hospitals all he had eaten had been healthy hospital food. Not that it was something bad, but he missed fast food and specially pizza; Jim used to tell him he missed eating pizza the most, since, as a ghost you can’t eat anything. Phil smiled fondly at the memory finally understanding his friend’s pain –if you could actually call it that way-.

“You like bells?” the shy voice from before, once again, interrupted his thoughts. Phil turned to his left to see the boy looking at him through his fringe, his shoulders a little bit hunched as if he was trying to take minimal space. Did he like bells? _I guess I do, if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have met Jim_.

“Yeah, I do, they remind me of an old friend of mine” he said.

The shy boy smiled “I like them too”. He paused as if considering if he should continue or not, and seeing Phil was looking at him expectantly, he added “I really like how they sound”.

Phil nodded at that “When I was a child, they used to be the only part I actually enjoyed from going to the church every Sunday morning. It is amazing all the sounds they can make, depending on how big or thick they are...”

He trailed off thinking about the evenings sitting on the roof of the church with Jim chatting of nothing and everything while the bells rang behind them.

“So the size matters?” the brunet blurted out covering his mouth automatically with one hand, his face turning red.

It took Phil a moment to understand the comment, and when the boy’s words sunk in, his eyes widened and his face turned a dark shade of pink.

They looked at each other with equal expressions that expressed pure horror and embarrassment, not being sure of how to cut the tension. In the end Phil was the first to let out a nervous giggle, followed by a snicker of the other and soon they were both laughing uncontrollably, doing their best to keep it down and not call much attention on themselves.

“I- I’m so sorry-” tried saying the brunet between giggles “I shouldn’t have said that” he finished when he was able to calm down a little.

“It’s alright” said Phil whipping the tears that had formed in his eyes due to the laughter and embarrassment “I could have chosen better words to express myself”

“Yeah, probably” smiled the other “I’m Dan, by the way”

“Phil”.

An awkward silence filled the air between them then, and Phil looked around trying to find a new topic of conversation so he could end the awkwardness. He observed Dan’s drawing, it wasn’t any better than Phil’s technically speaking, but it had much more consistency; it was a tarot card, drawn in red pencil. He couldn’t really tell which card was it, but that was probably because he didn’t know first thing about tarot. Either way, he decided to compliment Dan’s work.

“Thanks” he answered “my grandmother had always been a very spiritual person; she knew a lot about reading cards and people. Once she told me I was The Knight of Wands, which is a tarot card that represents courage and a  _hasty_  personality... whatever that means. I don’t know, it just reminds me that she truly believed in me, so when I’m feeling down I like to think of that, because she was never wrong about anything” Dan had a sad smile on his face, and Phil couldn’t help noticing the tense he had used.

“Did she...” he wasn’t sure how to ask if someone else had died, he had always met the dead people, not the ones left behind.

“Yeah, about a year before I was taken in here” the other answered, and then looked up still smiling “but I’m fine now, I miss her –a lot actually- but I’ve moved on”.

“I’m sorry for your loss” said Phil. That was what you were supposed to say to people who had lost someone, right?

“Thanks” was all Dan said, but now the smile was a lot brighter, and Phil was able to let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he had been holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you guys for your nice comments!!! ^.^  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, here begin my attempts to write an accurate as possible mental hospital, so i'd like to to apologize for any kind of failed representation.  
> Either way you can leave me a comment and tell me what you thought xx  
> Until next week!


	3. Chameleon

On Mondays was therapy group, Phil had been told, and he was dreading it. He was used to talking to doctors about his  _hallucinations_  and how the medication was helping, and other things he listed in his mind every night before going tosleep; it was knowledge he had acquired in the past almost two years, he knewwhat to tell them, he understood how the doctors’ minds worked, what were theylooking for, he’d had enough time to learn and practice. Other patients though, that was a whole other story. He had never talked to somebody who suffered schizophrenia, what if there was a schizophrenic in the group asking him about symptoms he would never experience? What if somebody noticed he was lying about taking his pills? He didn’t know if mentally ill people could recognize each other.  _No, they are not zombies from Resident Evil; they are normal people, a little fucked up in the brain. Focus, Phil!_  But no matter what he told himself, he was still a nerve wreck.

He arrived 15 minutes early because he couldn’t stand waiting alone in his room, neither walk slowly with his heart beating so fast. Due to this he was the first one in the room full of chairs. He looked at the silver clock hanging on the wall and could’ve sworn the seconds hand was going slower than it was supposed to. To distract himself he decided to take in the view the large windows had to offer; he could see most of the gardens, the stone paths lined with colourful flowers bathing in the afternoon sunlight gave the scene a sense of fairytale, almost as if those gardens didn’t belong to a place where fucked up people came in to either be released a little less fucked up or having learned how to pretend they were as normal as any outsider.

Alright, it wasn’t that bad. But Phil, despite the lack of responsibilities and relatively comfortable acommodation, didn’t enjoy being locked up in the hospital when he could be living his life outside. Either way, the last few days had been pretty nice if he had to be honest, no rain and almost no clouds in the sky, and everyone, patients and staff had decided to take advantage of this abnormality in the English weather. Most people were trying to spend as much time as they could in the gardens bathing in the sun, even trying to get a slight tan.

It was pretty funny to Phil, seeing such a lovely scene and then, hidden behind the trees at the back of the garden, an abandoned school standing crooked but still tall. All the information he had been able to gather about it consisted in: it was abandoned, falling apart and had once been a boarding school for teenage boys about sixty years before. That only made him more curious about the place though, why had it closed down? Had something happened or was it just that the owners were broke, had to sell and nobody had taken care of the place ever since? But at the same time, he knew he couldn’t take the risk of getting too close, because if it was haunted, he would probably end up making friends with the ghosts in there,  _or they could try to kill me_ , and all the hard work would’ve been for nothing. He sighed.

“You alright?” a voice startled Phil. He turned around to be greeted by the sight of no other than Dan. He hadn’t seen the brunet since that art class in which they had met.

“Oi, Dan! Don’t do that, you almost scare me to death!” the black haired boy dramatized. The other laughed at him and dismissed his comment.

“So what had you so deep in thought?” he asked instead.

“Nothing really, I was just letting my mind wander until this group therapy thing began” said Phil. Dan looked out of the window following Phil’s former line of sight.

“So you were trying to figure out a way in there?” he said pointing at the abandoned building with a head motion.

“What? No! I was just-”

“Yeah, sure thing, Phil” Dan smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Truth be told, Phil did want to go in there, he was dying to take a look at the insides of that creepy looking building; but again, he couldn’t take any risks of encountering any kinds of ghosts, he  _needed_  to be released from the hospital as soon as possible, and getting a new dead friend, or dying, wouldn’t be the best of ideas in order to accomplish that. Hence he kept shaking his head no and refusing to accept Dan’s multiple offers of getting both of them in there.

“Fine” Dan gave in when people started to fill the room “But sooner or later you will have to tell me what were you really thinking, ‘cos that definitely wasn’t a nothing face” he said lowering his voice so only Phil could hear him. Dan had a mischievous look in his eyes, but the 17 year old new it was harmless, so he just laughed.

They all finished taking seats forming a circle as the group’s doctor, Karen, instructed them, and the group therapy began.

“Hello everyone, and welcome, we’ve got some new members today so we will say our names and age out loud, to introduce ourselves” said Karen “As you know, nobody will be forced to tell why they are here, but I encourage you to speak up and tell the rest your progress”

That speech made Phil feel like he was in an A.A. reunion rather than therapy group, but he had never really been to one of these so he hadn’t really known what to expect out of it. Karen introduced herself and said she was going to be the group’s therapist for the rest of the year as an example and then proceeded to tell the girl to her right to continue.

“Hi, my name is Lucy, I am 15 years old and I have  _anger issues_ ” she said rolling her eyes “Though I haven’t had a burst of anger in three days and it wasn’t as big as the one that put me in here”

“Good” smiled Karen “Now you, Richard”

A tall boy with a shaved head and glasses straightened up a little and spoke up “Hi everyone, my name’s Richard, I’m 17 years old and I suffer from severe social anxiety”.

And like that everyone kept introducing themselves until it was Phil’s turn. Once again he felt all of the eyes of the room landing on him, so he took a deep breath and tried to speak as loud as his nerves let him.

“Hello, I’m Phil I’m 17 and I am schizophrenic” the word, after all those years still tasted horrible in Phil’s mouth, but he kept repeating in his mind that saying that was for the greater good –his greater good- like a tantrum. Everyone nodded and welcomed him, nobody asking a question. A wave of relief flooded Phil’s entire system as the person next to him introduced themselves. The dark haired boy decided to tune everyone out once again until Dan’s turn. He didn’t expect to learn everyone’s names on the first day, and he would have enough time to do that; what he wanted the most at the moment was to hear Dan’s story, to know why he was there.

“Hey, I’m Dan and I’m 16 years old” was all he said.

“Don’t you want to share your problem with the rest, Dan?” Karen inquired. Dan grimaced “You won’t be forced to say anything you don’t want to, it is fine but-”

“I suffer from anorexia, depression... but I’ve been eating regularly for a week and a half” the brunet said the first part so low Phil almost didn’t catch it, but it all made sense now, why Dan seemed to be younger than he actually was, why he was so skinny and why he always seemed so tired. The brunet looked down as Karen congratulated him and moved on to the next patient, though Phil wasn’t paying attention any more, for some reason he had been thinking of Dan as just a shy guy with pretty much no problems in his life,  _but why would he be here if his life wasn’t shit? You can be so dumb sometimes, Phil!_  The ebony haired mentally scolded himself.

After the introductions, everything passed in a haze; they discussed a little about general problems, then some more personal stuff, each respecting their own privacy. Dan didn’t speak again though, and only looked up when Phil was pushed into saying something or sharing an opinion.

By the end of the hour, everyone was aware of Phil’s condition and smiled sympathetically at him. The 17 year old was almost used to it and didn’t care much, but couldn’t help but feel uneasy after having been forced to talk about Jim after a year. He felt like Jim was only his, and nobody else deserved to know about him, it had been enough since the year that followed the fire.

Lunch time was about to start and the ebony haired boy decided to take that as an excuse to walk out of the room as fast as he could without being suspicious. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to get to know Dan, how he wanted to understand him, and at the same time tell him that he was so perfect and he should love himself. But that could be a lie, Phil didn’t really know Dan, all he knew was that the 16 year old was really nice and funny when it came to first impressions, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was like that all the time; so once again, he wanted to get to know Dan. He just didn’t know how.

Eating in the mental hospital was a very...  _peculiar_  experience for Phil. It wasn’t like there were some weird procedures, or somebody was watching them closely and forcing the food down their throats. But maybe that was what he had been expecting, and maybe that was the reason why it seemed such a strange thing for him eating in that place, the only kinda out of the ordinary part of it being that they shared it with the inpatients from the adult section of the hospital.

The dining hall was a big illuminated room, full of long tables just like the ones in the art classroom, and a bar where they gave you a menu which consisted of about three quite tasteless options to choose from that changed every day. So far he had been sitting on his own, or well, technically speaking, accompanied by a woman who was in such a catatonic state, doctors had to feed her everything through tubes; it was a nasty scene to watch but he could just ignore it and go on with his meal, so he would live.

Anyway, given the fact that Phil hadn’t really socialized with anybody other than Dan, and felt too socially inept to try and join him in his table, it was a pretty big surprise to him when he heard a voice calling his name.

“Hey! Phil, isn’t it?” it was a girl’s voice, he looked to his left expecting to see a ghost when he was faced with the girl from the therapy group,  _Lucy was it?_ , sitting at a table with some other people including no other than Dan.

He briefly nodded waiting for her to continue. “Would you like to eat with us?”

To Phil’s evident surprise she added “We thought it’d be nice for you if you got to sit with somebody who wasn’t tube woman” she said.

“Don’t call Clarisse like that, Lucy!” scolded Dan while a green eyed boy sitting in front of him snickered. The girl just rolled her eyes and smiled at Phil.

“So?” she questioned “are you gonna sit with us or you don’t want to disappoint your  _dearest Clarisse_ ” she threw a glare at Dan while saying the name.

Phil could only nod, slowly he sat to the right of green eyes, and waited not sure of what he was expected to do now. Coming to think of it, the green eyed boy  _had_  been in therapy group; Phil just had been too focused on Dan to hear his name.  _Good one there Mr I-won’t-need-to-learn-all-their-names-today_ , he mentally scolded himself. Yet, he was sure it would be too impolite to ask now considering they all knew Phil’s name.

“Well then  _bell-boy_ ,” said green eyes, making Phil’s eyes go wide upon hearing the nickname “Dan told us  _all_  about you”

“No I didn’t!” Dan’s ears had gone a deep shade of pink and he looked like he might murder someone.

“He really didn’t” said green-eyes, a smirk on his face “He just said he met you at art class and mentioned you were drawing bells”

“And we wanted to know why that was worth mentioning since none of us have any interest in bells, but we couldn’t get anything else out of him” finished Lucy in between mouth-full’s of rice “Chris just tends to make up things all the time”

So Chris must’ve been green eyes’ name.  _I better remember it now that I know it_.

“I swear I wasn’t talking about you behind your back or anything. I mean, in a way I was, but not in a bad way! I was just saying how nice it had been talking to you. Not that-”

“It is fine” said Phil cutting Dan’s mumbling “It was just a drawing... and it was nice talking to you too”.

Chris cooed saying they were  _so cute_ , and maybe something about soul-mates, but he was interrupted by what Phil suspected had been a kick on the sheen by Dan. After that Lucy laughed and they all fell into easy conversation; soon lunch was over and each went their way as their schedules said.

Phil had 15 minutes before his private session with the therapist, so he decided to walk Dan to his room, since he was feeling pretty tired and needed a nap but also  _had_  to lend Phil this one book that would  _change his whole life_. In the way to Dan’s room, he didn’t stop talking about the book, and how it was about people who were misunderstood because of society’s views. Phil was just content with listening to him babble about something he seemed to like so much, because the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he spoke, his dimple showed more prominent and his whole face illuminated as he for once didn’t try hiding it behind his fringe. And he hadn’t noticed until now how down, Dan always seemed to be despite his light tone during most conversations, but now that he had a clear image of what a genuinely happy Dan looked like, he wanted to make sure he could never be sad again.

“So this is the book” said Dan producing a thick worn out book out of a bag.

Phil wasn’t really sure when they had gotten to the room, but decided to just smile and accept it. “Thanks, Dan. I’ll begin it after therapy”

“You’re welcome”. The 16 year old was sitting on his bed looking at his hands that rested on his lap.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, looking up before Phil could say anything upon noticing the sudden change in his behaviour. Phil nodded in response.

“It is kind of personal, so if you don’t want to answer it, it’s fine... I was just wondering” he took a deep breath “you don’t believe Jim, your friend, was a product of your imagination, do you?”

Well, that wasn’t much of a question. Phil started to feel very nervous,  _what was it that gave it away? Something I said? Or maybe the way I said it?_

“Uhm...”

“As I said, you don’t have to answer me; I just don’t think he was, based on what you told me”

_Ok. What._  That was new; somebody actually believed Jim was real? And just from what Phil told about him?

“Is this some kind of test?” Phil was bewildered.

“No, no, I am honestly wondering. But I understand, too personal, it’s fine” Dan gave him a dimpled half smile followed by a yawn “Anyway; you’ve got the book now, and I really need a nap right now. Besides, you should get going to your therapy session of the day”.

Phil was still processing Dan’s question, and since the brunet was already getting under his covers, all he could do was turn around and leave the room. If something was clear in Phil’s mind, from the small exchange, it was that he should definitely get going to his therapy session. So that’s what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far and it is an excuse to introduce more characters (yaaay!!).  
> But no, really, i hope you liked it. And if you didn't don't worry, the next chapter is much better (at least i find it more interesting), and you only have to wait one more week! *hides in shame for being such a slow writer*


	4. Finger marks on the dust

That evening they found each other in the gardens. They talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Dan and Phil seemed to click in a way they didn’t with anyone else, and it gave them both a sense of security when facing the fact that they were in that place because something was wrong with them.

Somehow, at some point of the conversation, Dan convinced Phil of breaking into the abandoned school next door. And before Phil could change his mind or actually understand what had happened, Dan was already leaving with a “Great, see you tomorrow morning!”

Phil wasn’t planning on going. After returning to his room he had decided that as much as he liked Dan, and wanted Dan to like him, his freedom wasn’t worth it. Phil, of course, really wanted to go into that abandoned school and explore it like he had done in that old hotel he had visited with his family at the age of 10. But also he _needed_ to be let out of that mental hospital as soon as possible because he had plans for his life, he wanted to study, go to University, travel the world, meet more ghosts; just get back on track with his life!

So all things considered, and supposedly settled in his mind, why was he standing at 6am, at the back of the gardens, freezing his ass off, waiting for Dan to show up? There was no logical answer to that, and yet he was still there when Dan’s figure appeared running up to him five minutes later. He was carrying a torch in one hand and a bright smile on his face.

“Hurry up, Phil!” called Dan excitedly. He scurried through a hole in the fence that was hidden behind some bushes, motioning Phil to follow.

Phil, who had been reconsidering his choice of showing up since waking up, didn’t hesitate in going after Dan through the hole in the fence. If they encountered any ghosts he could just pretend to not notice, right? _Alright, now I’m just asking for it_ , he thought. But his sense of adventure had already gotten the best of him and he was running beside Dan towards the crooked building, which happened to look even creepier at such early hours of the morning.

As they didn’t want to be seen, and it would be closed anyway, they avoided the front door, heading straight to the windows at the sides and the back. They tried every reachable window with no success, and when Phil thought that would be the end of it Dan found the entrance to the basement. _Of course it had to be a bloody basement_ , thought Phil, feeling his insides tighten in fear; he had met an “evil” ghost only once, it had been in a basement, and his cousin was almost killed –in the end they he had told the adults that it had been an accident, of course, and his cousin suffered from memory loss because he had been sent flying and hit his head too hard–.

“Dan, I’m sure there must be some other way to get in”, _any other way_.

“Oh, come on Phil, don’t tell me now you are scared” the brunet smirked “it’s just a basement, a school basement for God’s sake! What could be in a school basement that could damage us in any way?”

“I don’t know” _evil ghosts that want to kill us maybe?_ “I guess you’re right, but we should still be careful ‘cos it is a very old place and there’s no way we can be sure it won’t break down on us”

“Sure, now let’s go!” said Dan with a big smile on his face, before slipping into the hole they had found covered by three loosened plonks.

The inside of the basement was dark, filled with dust and musty air that made it hard to breathe normally. In Phil’s opinion it was disgusting; in Dan’s words it was just proof of his initial suspicion: “this is an adventure!”

Phil rolled his eyes at him and told him to shut it and turn on the torch so they could find the way up into the main part of the school; the brunet complied but not before sticking his tongue out at his friend.

Despite being abandoned, there were still some broken desks and ran down bookshelves with rotten wood and rusty nails. They were careful of not stepping on anything and stuck together blaming their shivers on the cool temperature of the place.

Suddenly they felt movement to their left, so Dan pointed the torch that way, illuminating a rat that quickly scurried away in fear. Everything happened so fast though, that Phil’s mind didn’t catch the part of it being a rat so he naturally jumped as far from the _threat_ as he could, resulting in him smashing against the column right behind him and cloud of dust and rubble landing on his head and shoulders making him yelp.

Dan, who had seen the whole ordeal wide eyed and gaping mouth, broke down laughing at the sight.

“Oh my god! You should have seen your face!” he exclaimed once he managed to calm down.

“Shut up! It wasn’t funny” Phil was glaring while he tried to brush off as much dust and rubble as possible from his hair. “At least not _that_ funny” he added failing to contain a smile.

“Sure”. Dan’s cheeks were red from laughing so much and he had to clean some tears that were threatening to fall, a bright smile still stamped on his face. He shone the light of the torch around and motioned Phil to keep going, the stairs that went into the building couldn’t be too far.

Soon they found the way out behind more rotten bookshelves and to their good luck, the door at the top of the stairs wasn’t locked. They walked down an empty hallway with peeling wallpaper, and what once had been a shiny tiled floor. It led to a big hall with windows to their front that reached the ceiling, but were too covered in dust to let any light in, and a big staircase to their right that probably went up to the classrooms.

The whole place seemed to have been taken right out of a horror movie, and Dan was beginning to wonder why he had thought it was a good idea to come here in the first place. He looked to his left and saw his answer: Phil’s eyes seemed to be shinning with wonder and amazement at the whole place, the previous jump-scare completely forgotten. He looked truly beautiful- _wait what?_ _No, not beautiful, just... aesthetically pleasant._ Dan saw another rat run by one of the windows so he nudged Phil and pointed at it.

“Be careful, you don’t want it to eat you” he joked.

Phil just raised an eyebrow and looked at him unamused “I’ll have you know rats are carriers of many diseases and we _should_ stay away from them” he said as he started walking heading up the stairs.

But that didn’t discourage Dan and he kept mocking Phil for a few minutes while they walked and looked through doors and windows at what once had been classrooms, hallways, and offices. His playfully mean words suddenly stopped with any other sound he could have emitted, though; they had reached a big theatre like room, probably used for big events like graduations, plays, celebrations, and such.

Most of the seats were either broken or just gone. There was also a stage, with heavy red curtains mildly eaten by moths. What actually caught Dan’s attention though, was a worn out grand piano sitting at a side of the stage. He ran up the hallway and the three steps that led to the creaking floor boards of the stage and sat on a dusted chair in front of the piano just looking at it for a moment a little bit out of breath.

Phil slowly approached him while he ran his fingers along the yellowing keys, leaving a white path through the dust that had accumulated over the years. Some keys were missing, but maybe it could still be played. Blue met brown when Dan turned to look at Phil in the eye.

“It’s been a while, but I think I can still play a bit, what would you like to listen to?” the question was very quiet, but it echoed around the room just enough for the ebony haired boy to hear it.

“I don’t know” Phil’s tone was just as low, as if they would disturb someone _or something_ if they spoke too loud “What can you play?”

Dan thought for a moment, and then his features lit up as he remembered something.

The notes began as Dan’s fingers slowly remembered their way through the keys the more he played.

“This is called Claire de Lune” he said it so quietly Phil almost missed it.

The ebony haired boy sat next to the brunet without taking his eyes away from the hands skilfully moving across the keys.

Suddenly a loud crash was heard outside the theatre. Dan stopped playing abruptly, his eyes widening in fear as Phil froze on the spot.

Phil was afraid to even think what it was, and was praying it had been somebody who guarded the building and had found them; _somebody alive_.

Nobody made a sound, and that scared him even more. Thing about ghosts is, that they don’t turn everything cold with their sudden appearance as the movies suggest. No, they are just there; one moment there’s no-one, the other there is, and you don’t know where it’ll come from or when.

They were both holding their breaths, hearts hammering against their chests so loud they feared it would give them away.

Slowly, Phil started to regain his reason and nudged Dan so they’d move. Both boys scurried out of the theatre as silently and fast as they could. No-one was out there, or so it seemed. Dan had visibly relaxed and opened his mouth to laugh, but Phil clasped his hand over it and pulled them both behind a big pile of desks on a corner. Then he motioned Dan to keep quiet, taking a finger to his lips.

As quietly as he could he tried to spy through the desks to see if there was someone. It was then when he saw them: three boys dressed in school uniforms, obviously out of their time; they looked pale and while two had their eyes wide open looking around as cats for a prey, one was scowling, he looked furious.

Dan opened his mouth again to ask what was going on, but Phil was faster and clasped his hand against Dan’s mouth shutting him up.

“We know you’re there!” had they seen them? Had they been too loud? _Oh my god, we are going to die if we don’t escape fast_. Phil tried to contain his breath with the tears welling up his eyes. He was trembling and Dan looked worried.

“Come out, come out, fag!” this one was another “There is no point in hiding” _Fag. As in one,_ maybe Dan could still escape. Phil’s thoughts were racing with ways to convince Dan to go without him, but everything was interrupted by another voice, a small and quiet one.

“Leave me alone, I did nothing this time”

Phil spied through the desks again and this time there was another, he looked small and afraid next to the others.

“Sure you didn’t! We heard you playing the piano, faggot!” _Is really that the only insult they know?_

“We thought we had agreed to not fucking wake it!”

The small ghost looked like he was about to cry.

“I-I didn’t- it wasn’t me! I swear!”

The three bullies begun walking towards him, the small boy taking a step back for every step forwards they took.

Phil was relieved to see them walk through the walls into another room, taking Dan’s hand quickly and rushing them towards the basement; they had to get out of there as soon as they could.

As they descended the stairs, Dan seemed to regain his voice because he stopped Phil on his tracks and scream-whispered

“What _was_ that?”

“No time to explain, we’ve got to get out of here”. Phil tried to keep going, but Dan refused to move without answers.

“ _Phil_ ” he said.

“Okay. There are ghosts here, four to be exact; one of them doesn’t look dangerous, but the other three definitely are”

Dan didn’t believe him, that bit was obvious, but Phil didn’t have the time to make something up. Anyway, at most Dan would think he needed his medicine and that would be it. Or so Phil thought.

“Shit” Dan started to run, pushing Phil to keep going down into the basement. Phil didn’t even try to ask why Dan believed him right away with no proof, and soon they were climbing out of the trap-door.

Then Phil heard the voices again, louder, closer.

“You can’t run from us, Colin! We’ll find you”

So Phil just ran faster hoping Dan would follow suit.

When they reached the hospital grounds, panting, Phil was expecting Dan to tell him to go and take his pills. But he didn’t.

“Did they see us?” was the first thing that came out of the brunet’s mouth.

A million thoughts and questions rushed through Phil’s head, and now that the danger had passed, some of words he had heard outside the theatre-room resonated in his mind: _We thought we had agreed to not fucking wake it!_

“What?” was the only thing he could answer his friend.

“The ghosts, did they see us?”

“You believe me?”

“Of course, I already told you I do” Dan thought for a second “Hold on, where you lying?”

“No! I wasn’t” answered Phil quickly, “it’s just that you’re the first one who believes me”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but let’s say I did have my fare share of experience regarding the dead, even though I can’t see them”

Phil let that sink in. _Dan believes me. Dan believes me._ Dan believes me. _Dan doesn’t think I’m crazy!_ The words kept repeating in his head until he remembered his friend’s question.

“No”

“What?” this time Dan was the confused one.

“No, the ghosts didn’t see us.”

“I didn’t know ghosts could be dangerous”

“Usually they aren’t” said Phil with a frown. “But some are and... I think these were, or at least something in there was” and he proceeded to tell Dan what he’d seen and heard in the abandoned school.

“From what you say they either meant waking their anger or there is something that even ghosts can be afraid of and is –or was– sleeping” Dan thought about it for a moment. “But what could ghosts be afraid of?”

Phil shrugged “I have no idea, but I’m not sure I want to find out”.

The brunet nodded “Yup, I vow to never entering those grounds ever again” he said raising one hand and placing the other over his heart.

Phil chuckled, mirrored his position and mumbled an agreement. “Now I think we should go get cleaned up before anyone asks us were we’ve been”.

Dan laughed and nodded, walking back towards the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i know this isn't the longest chapter, but i really like it (maybe because it was very easy to write? maybe because Dan plays the piano? idrk i just like it a lot).  
> Anyway i hope you liked it as much as i do, and thank you very much for the nice comments!! They are what make me want to keep writing this until the end <3


	5. Downpour

The showers at the hospital were communal, and open the 24 hours of the day, since apparently taking a shower can relax people and help them sleep better. The only problem would be getting to their rooms to fetch some clean clothes. Everything went smoothly though, and soon they were making their way into the bathroom, towels and clothes in their hands.

The thought of showering with Dan alone made its way into Phil’s mind, and he realized he had mixed feelings about it. In one hand it made him very excited, since Dan was a very attractive male and Phil really liked very attractive males –especially when naked _and_ wet–; but on the other hand, Dan was his friend, the first one in a long time as a matter of fact, and he didn’t want to ruin that. As fate would have it though, he never got the opportunity of showering with Dan alone because they found one of the patients in the bathroom, already getting ready for a shower.

The patient was a short, middle-aged man, who refused to talk to humans. From what Phil had heard, the man not only believed he could communicate with animals, but also thought he could control them with his thoughts. Phil guessed he couldn’t really accuse him of being crazy when he could see and speak to ghosts himself.

In between all of these thoughts, he hadn’t noticed Dan had already gotten undressed and into the shower. The ebony haired boy quickly did the same, and felt a wave of relief wash over him with the water pouring down as he properly cleaned off the dust and rubble.

When he got out, Dan was already dry and dressed, fiddling with his curly hair in front of the mirror. The other man was still showering. Phil pushed away his disappointment at having missed his opportunity of seeing Dan naked ( _remember Phil, he’s your friend_ ), and got dried and dressed himself.

After that they said their goodbyes and headed to their own rooms in hopes of getting some extra sleep. It didn’t work for Phil though, despite having relaxed thanks to the shower, he still couldn’t shake off the feeling that Dan and him had been extremely lucky of not having been injured inside the abandoned school. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he felt like they were lucky to be even alive.

In the end, his roommate’s clock alarm went off and Phil decided it was too late to try to sleep now, so he got dressed and went for some breakfast.

The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. The sky had darkened with clouds and was threatening to fall over them at any given moment. He didn’t see Dan until lunch, and even then he was awfully quiet. When Phil finally got the opportunity to ask him what was wrong the only answer he got was “I’m just tired” and a half smile.

“Alright...” was all Phil could say, he knew there was something else, but he didn’t want to push it so he just tried to change the topic. Tiny droplets had started to fall outside, and the 17 year old let the soft sound wash over him; he found the sound of rain quite relaxing.

“So you said there’s a reason why you believe me about- well, you know...” said Phil, breaking the silence. It wasn’t easy talking about Jim like this. He had gotten used to pretending he hadn’t been real, and now that somebody believed he wasn’t crazy, it just reminded him that no matter what, he still wouldn’t see him again.

“I told you it is kind of a long story” said Dan. He sounded a bit absent, _but at least he is paying enough attention to answer_.

“I don’t have anything else to do for the rest of the day, and there's not much else to do” answered Phil motioning the increasing downpour outside with his head. He hoped that talking about this would distract Dan from whatever was bothering him.

“Alright, if you insist I’ll tell you; but as a last warning, it isn’t even that interesting and I’m not very good at telling stories so you will probably get bored”

“I don’t care, I want the story!” said Phil, and now he was feeling like an excited child who was about to be told a big secret.

“Well, my family was very religious. Since I can remember my parents would take me to church every Sunday and right after we’d go to grandma’s for lunch. We would say our prayers and thank God for the food before eating, and some days they’d even force me to study passages from the Bible.

Of course, my grandparents were outraged when they learnt I wouldn’t be going to church anymore because I’d be taking my piano lessons instead. But since I had always had a great relationship with my father’s mother, she forgave me right away as long as I promised to visit her more often.

It was around that time when she begun to talk to me about the angels. She still wanted me to keep in touch with Christianity despite missing Sunday church, so that was her way of doing it.

I had never met my grandfather, my dad’s dad I mean, but grandma would always talk about how he had been a very good man and now he was in heaven waiting for her. I remember that the first time she told me that, I thought she was going with him right away and I started to cry and beg her to stay a little longer. Of course, she laughed and explained that she’d go when her time came, but it hadn’t yet so I was worrying for naught.

What she also taught me that year was that not all angels went to heaven.

_One even lives with me!_ she said.

Up until then I had thought all doors at grandma’s were automatic; turns out this _angel_ was just being nice to me. Some years later I expanded my knowledge in beliefs about Life and Death, learning the word _ghosts_ ; and I don’t know if they are ghosts or angels or what, but they are definitely dead people’s souls roaming the earth.”

Phil listened in silence, and when Dan was finished he thought about it for a moment.

“I can’t believe it” he said after a few seconds. Dan looked at him confused, and was about to ask what exactly Phil didn’t believe, but the ebony haired boy continued “I can’t believe you told me you are a bad story teller and I almost believed you!”

Dan stared at him not knowing what to say, and Phil just stared back. In the end, Dan looked away into his lap, a small smile playing on his lips, and a pink blush covering his cheeks.

“Thanks” he mumbled.

“Also, I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who can see them. The ghosts I mean” said Phil pensively.

Dan frowned at that. “I’m sorry”.

“What?”

“I’m sorry nobody believes you and you had to end up here because of that”

Phil shrugged “It isn’t your fault, and anyway I just have to keep up with ‘getting better’ until they release me. Then be more careful about who I tell about my _ability._ If you want to call it that” he added as an afterthought.

“Sounds like a good plan”

After that they kept talking until dinner time. Then shower time came, and while Phil had to queue, he saw Dan walking past him, his curly hair dripping water. He wondered how early Dan had to get there to have already taken a shower, but he didn’t ponder on it too much.

Wednesday and Thursday, went by in pretty much the same fashion; he woke up with his roommate’s clock alarm, he had breakfast, he went to his therapy session, he read next to the lounge's largest window, rain kept pouring outside, and he didn’t see Dan until lunch.

Fridays were visiting day, and Phil was excited to see his parents, but also kind of nervous because his friends had promised to introduce him to their own families and friends.

Five o’clock struck and the doors were opened for visitors. Phil’s parents had said they would be late, so the first thing on his list was meeting new people (a little against his will).

The first one he met was a chubby woman of striking blue eyes, and blonde and pink hair; her name was Louise, and Dan had insisted that Phil met her first because it would be a decisive factor in the boys’ friendship. The 17 year old had been somewhat timid at first, but Louise was such a nice and genuine woman he just couldn’t not like her. Turns out Dan and her had been neighbours since “forever”, they went to the same secondary school and she had a lot of things to update Dan with.

“First of all, Matt finally asked me out! Of course I said yes, I’ve been crushing on him for two years” she explained to Phil “And Zoey –my best friend, besides Dan, of course– is dating a guy from another school. His name is Alfie and he’s a cutie. Talking of cuties, Jack says the whole drama club misses you and isn’t the same without you.”

“The drama club?” asked Phil confused.

Her smile grew even wider “didn’t Dan tell you? He was basically the star of the drama club!”

Dan groaned “she’s exaggerating. Don’t listen to her; I wasn’t such a big deal”

But Phil was already smirking “you’re an actor and never told me?”

“And a very good one, by the way” added Louise.

“How could you not tell me, Dan? What else have you been hiding from me?” exclaimed Phil putting a hand to his heart “Is your name Dan or have you been lying about that too?”

The brunet rolled his eyes “Yeah sure, my name isn’t Dan, your whole life is a lie”

“Knew it, I bet your name is actually Winston”

“Shut up you dork”.

Lucy introduced him to her two best friends Sophie and Lauren. In Phil’s opinion, Sophie’s sweet and caring personality clashed with the other two’s sarcastic and loud ones, but he could understand why they were friends with her; it was kind of impossible not to like Sophie.

Richard's family was very sweet, but none of them stayed for long, as they were taking their boy to the movies, with the permission of the hospital of course.

Finally, at six, Phil’s parents walked through the door, but contrary to his expectations they weren’t alone, and Phil’s heart jumped a little because he hadn’t seen that boy with the aquamarine coloured eyes, who was walking besides Phil’s mum, in months.

“PJ!” Phil jumped up from his seat next to Sophie and run to hug his friend.

PJ hugged back with the same force. Since Phil had been labelled as mentally unstable they hadn’t seen each other much. Actually, the last time they had talked was the time PJ had told Phil he didn’t believe him about Jim but would support him through anything he had to go through because of the _schizophrenia_. Phil then, proceeded to yell at him, outraged that the only friend he had left didn’t believe him. There was a small fight that followed that, and even though they both regretted what they had said, they had been too stubborn to call the other and make up.

“I thought I’d never see you again” whispered Phil still clinging to his friend.

“Well, you’re my best friend, I couldn’t possibly leave you alone to go through this” said PJ as he broke the hug and looked at his friend in the eye “Actually, I should’ve visited sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t”

“And I shouldn’t have reacted that bad to you not believing me, I’m sorry too.”

They smiled and hugged again until someone next to them cleared their throat.

“It’s good to know you missed us so much, Phil” said his father who was smiling fondly at him despite the obvious sarcasm in his voice.

Phil smiled sheepishly and apologized, then hugged both his parents, and proceeded to catch up with them and PJ until visiting hours were over.

That night he didn’t see Dan at dinner, and was told he had eaten before everyone else because he was tired and wanted an early night. It was a pity, he hadn’t gotten the chance of introducing him to PJ and wanted to tell him that the following week he was visiting again and wanted to meet Dan. But he shrugged it off, it was good the brunet was finally getting some sleep; he had seemed exhausted the past few days.

Instead of worrying so much about his friend, he decided it was better to spend the time chatting with Lucy and Chris so, with some effort, that’s what he did. When they went to the showers Chris and him said goodbye to Lucy and went their own way keeping the conversation light and alive. The green eyed boy had a wicked sense of humour, but was amazing at telling stories, regardless of them being true or not.

When he went to sleep Phil felt happy. Happier than he had felt in a while, that had been a very good day, and things were looking up.

* * *

The following morning it was harder than ever to wake up for Phil. He had dreamt of Dan: they had been walking around, chatting and laughing like any other day, but there had been some slight differences; they were holding hands, at lunch they sat closer together, and right before he woke up, Phil could’ve sworn they were about to kiss. He wasn’t ready to think about the meaning or implications of the dream, it was way too early for that, but it had all felt so nice he just wanted to drift back to sleep and dream the same dream over and over again.

Of course, that wasn’t possible; he had a session with his therapist at 10, so he _had_ to wake up. But before any kind of interaction with any human being, he needed coffee, so he headed to the dining room.

What he didn't expect was to bump into Dan so early at the doors of the cafeteria, followed by fast flashes of his last dream which forced Phil to fight away a blush. But he wouldn't let a stupid dream get in the way of his friendship so he went up to the brunet and proceeded to greet him with a good morning.

"Yeah, what an amazing morning" he answered sarcastically glancing at the storm outside.

"You know, one would think that I'd hate storms after what happened at the church, but I find them pretty calming”

Dan chuckled, but didn’t say anything and walked away to sit at their usual table. Phil followed him as quickly as he could, trying to avoid spilling the contents of his mug.

“I’ve almost finished the book” he said after a silence.

The brunet stayed quiet for a moment as if trying to figure out what book was Phil talking about. Then recognition flashed in his eyes and excitement illuminated his face.

“Do you like it? Of course you like it, it is amazing!” he said.

“I like it now that I figured out what is going on” said Phil.

“I’m glad you didn’t listen when I accidentally spoiled it to you then”

“Oh...” Phil remembered the time he had been given the book and how he had been so lost in thought he didn’t catch a thing from what Dan had been saying “Sorry”

“No, it’s okay. As I said, it’s good you weren’t spoiled. It kind of slipped out when I was talking about the story” he smiled.

Shortly after, Phil had to leave for therapy session, and Dan mumbled something about having something to do himself too. They parted ways and Phil hurried his step after taking a glance at the round clock that hung over the doors of the cafeteria, and realizing he was almost late to therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay meeting knew people!! I am aware that the visiting system in mental hospitals probably doesn't work like that, but it works for this story (and YOLO it's fanfiction)  
> I know i'm posting this early, but i'm going away tomorrow and i won't be back until sunday, so here you go, early chapter ~yay!~ happy birthday(?)  
> Also, i'm thinking of writing the next chapter from Dan's POV, but i'm not sure yet, so yay or nay to Dan's POV? (you can use the comments for this, they don't bite)


End file.
